


Three Little Birds

by squick743



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Other, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 16:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12214179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squick743/pseuds/squick743
Summary: Michael Mell is at the lowest he's ever been after the Squipcident.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> weLL

In Michael's right hand was piled about two dozen or so sleeping pills, and in his left hand was his cellphone with his best friend Jeremy's phone number already typed in.

He wasn't sure what exactly had gotten him to this point. Maybe it was the depression he had already been struggling with. Maybe it was the isolation he felt when Jeremy began to ignore him for hours on end after the Squipcident. Maybe it was the memories of Jake's Halloween party that still plagued him in the middle of the night. Whatever it was, whatever it could've been, this was definitely the lowest Michael had sunk in his entire life. 

However, to his surprise, he found he could hardly feel a thing.

He felt, perhaps, a twinge of guilt for stealing his mother's prescription sleeping meds, but… she'd buy more. He was desperate. But somewhere, deep inside of him, he also felt the strange need to call Jeremy, which was why his phone number was currently ready to dial at any moment.

Michael sighed at the thoughts racing through his head. He didn't want to call Jeremy, he didn't want to call Jeremy because if he called Jeremy then he would start having second thoughts about this whole thing and he couldn't because this needed to happen. For his happiness, and for the happiness of others.

You see, Michael had always doubted himself. Michael had always viewed himself as an "extra," unnecessary, always a second choice. The only time he never felt he was a second choice was when it came to Jeremy.

However, on the night of Jake's Halloween party… everything Michael had ever believed in had come crashing down around him. He had never been popular, nor had he ever even particularly cared, but now all of a sudden, it seemed like it was something he had to be to be enough for, well… anyone. 

And Jeremy completely ignoring him for the past week was not helping him whatsoever.

Which was why Michael was now slumped on his bathroom floor, pills in his hand, on the verge of hyperventilating because all of the contemplating he was doing.

He was angry at himself for even considering calling Jeremy when he had to carry this out and didn't want any second guessing his decision but he couldn't he couldn't he couldn't he couldn't because every centimeter closer the pills came to his mouth, the stronger the urge to call Jeremy became.

The pills were about an inch away from tumbling into his mouth and taking everything away when Michael let out a groan of frustration because he just couldn't he just couldn't, not without at least trying to call Jeremy first.

So Michael let his hand fall from his mouth, his fingers curled into a fist to ensure he didn't drop any pills onto the floor.

He mustered up his remaining courage and hit the "call" button.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Hi, this is Jeremy Heere and you've reached my voice mail. I am probably-

Michael hit the "call end" button before he'd have to listen to Jeremy's stupid voice explain reasons he couldn't be there for him at the moment any longer. This was how it was supposed to be, wasn't it? His best friend of twelve years hadn't picked up the phone when he needed him most, which proved the one thing that had been circling through Michael's mind this entire time - that he didn't fucking matter.

Michael felt his mind go blank with the finality of what he was about to do and brought his hand to his mouth, tipping the pills into it and reaching for the glass of water beside him to push them down his throat.

Rise up this mornin'  
Smiled with the risin' sun  
Three little birds  
Pitch by my doorstep

Michael flinched violently at the sound of Jeremy's ringtone, dropping the glass of water onto the tiled floor and hearing the glass shatter. He felt spilled water beginning to seep into the bottom of his red hoodie as he quickly stood up, ran over to the sink, bent over, and spit the pills out, coughing and gagging the entire time. He quickly turned on the faucet and rinsed his mouth, the bitter taste of the pills lingering in the back of his throat. He then dropped back down onto the floor, ignoring the shards of broken glass that scraped at him through his jeans as he picked up his cellphone, and answered the call.

"H… hello." Michael spoke quietly, his throat hoarse from the pills that had threatened to make their way down it.

"Michael?" Jeremy said, his voice dripping with concern. Even though he'd basically been going out of his way to avoid him for the past week, Jeremy could still tell when something was wrong with Michael after their twelve years of friendship.

"I…" Michael began, when suddenly, he found that his voice was choked up with sobs. "Jeremy, I-I…" he sobbed. "I… I need your h-help."

He let out an agonized sob as a whole new slew of tears came pouring down his face, and suddenly Michael found that he could barely breathe but oh god it was just so good to hear his best friend's voice again.

"Michael?!" Jeremy exclaimed now, clearly alarmed. "I- I'm coming over. I'm driving over right now. Can you tell me what's going on?"

Michael could hear Jeremy frantically grabbing his car keys and then rapid footsteps as he hurried out the door.

He waited until he could hear Jeremy start to drive off and then say, "Michael?" again before answering.

"I, um…" Michael took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Tears poured freely down his face and dripped onto his red hoodie, soaking the front of it. His whole body trembled, and for a second he worried he'd accidentally swallowed a few pills by mistake. "I had pills. But um, I-I didn't, um… I d-didn't take them."

Michael swore he could hear Jeremy's stomach drop over the phone.

"You… you what? Oh my… okay, I'm coming, I'm coming right now, Michael, so please just wait for me and I'll be there soon, okay?" Jeremy's voice sounded thick with tears and worry, and Michael quickly nodded before he realized Jeremy couldn't see him and went, "Okay."

Six minutes later, the sound of the front door slamming open reverberated up the stairs, followed by heavy footsteps that ran all the way from the entry way room to Michael's closed bathroom door.

Jeremy tentatively knocked on the door, his panting audible.

"Michael, can I… can I come in?" he asked hesitantly, his voice quaking with worry.

Michael, still slumped against the bathtub with shattered glass all around him and saliva covered pills piled up in the sink, his cellphone dangling in his hand, mussed hair, smudged glasses and a blotchy red face from all of the sobbing, quietly croaked, "Yes."

The doorknob immediately turned and the door slowly swung open, as though Jeremy wanted to make sure Michael hadn't been leaning against it. 

And then Jeremy stepped in, closed the door behind him, and took in his surroundings.

Glass on the floor. Pills in the sink.

Michael Mell slumped against the bathtub.

Jeremy promptly rushed over to him and crouched down beside him, immediately enveloping Michael in an embrace. Michael found himself sobbing again at Jeremy's touch, at the comfort, and Jeremy found himself sobbing as well, at the thought of losing his best friend, at how close he'd apparently been.

The two remained like that for what might have been ten minutes or ten hours, no words spoken, just loud sobs that eventually quieted down to occasional sniffles.

Jeremy was stroking the back of Michael's head and Michael was clutching onto Jeremy as though he was holding on for dear life, although in a way, he was.

Eventually, Jeremy felt Michael pulling away, the warmth of his arms wrapped around him quickly disappearing as Michael slumped, once again, against the side of the bathtub.

Jeremy found himself slumping next to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter ends kinda abruptly bc i'm lazy

Now that he wasn't overcome with the urgency to tend to a best friend who wanted to… well, he still was, but at least he was with him now, Jeremy took the time to really take in his surroundings.  
He noticed now that he was slumped, along with Michael, in a puddle of water. The broken glass scattered on the floor was grazing his legs and he decided that if he was going to talk to Michael, it should be somewhere safer.

"Hey, Michael," Jeremy coaxed gently, "Do you wanna head to your room so we can… talk? Because, um… there's just a lot of glass everywhere and-"

"Okay," Michael interrupted, already slowly beginning to stand up and using the bathtub/Jeremy's shoulder to help him. With a little assistance from Jeremy himself, Michael managed to maneuver his way through the shards of glass covering the floor and out of the bathroom, Jeremy quickly following suit. As soon as the two were out of the tiled room and onto the soft carpet of the hallway, Jeremy quietly closed the door to the bathroom behind him. He figured he could clean up the mess later, when Michael was asleep; he thought he would want to rest after all of the crying he had done.

With a hand on Michael’s shoulder (for comfort? Maybe?) Jeremy slowly led Michael down the hall to where he knew his best friend’s room would be. Michael’s gaze remained aimed towards the floor for the entirety of the short walk to his room. Jeremy kept his gaze ahead, his expression passive, but really he was wondering what the hell he was supposed to say to Michael once they reached his room. Should he not say anything? Should he let Michael sleep first and then talk to him? Should they just . . . not talk at all?

Jeremy decided against the last option. This was serious. Michael…his best friend… had wanted to… 

Jeremy cleared his throat and blinked back some tears that had suddenly sprung to his eyes, and before either one of them knew it, they were at Michael’s bedroom door. Using the hand that wasn’t placed on Michael’s shoulder, Jeremy slowly pushed open the already slightly ajar door.

Once inside, Jeremy was surprised at the non-disheveled state of Michael’s bedroom. His bed had been made, there were no dirty clothes littering the carpeted floor, and the empty chip bags that had been scattered everywhere from the last time Jeremy had come over (when even was that?) had been picked up and presumably thrown away.

Jeremy fought back yet another onslaught of tears as he realized that Michael had probably wanted at least his room to be clean.

Pulling away from Jeremy’s touch, Michael trudged over to his bed where he sunk down onto the edge of it, his gaze still directed at the floor.

Jeremy continued to stand in the doorway of the precisely clean room, unsure of how to start the conversation he had apparently been planning on having with Michael. A million thoughts surged through his mind all at once before he decided the best course of action would probably be to let Michael have some time to rest first - with Jeremy nearby, of course.

“Michael,” Jeremy began, “if you don’t want to talk yet, we don’t have to. I just figured I should probably get you somewhere safer.” He cleared his throat before continuing, absentmindedly looking off to the side as he didn’t want to see the emotionless look on Michael’s face. He crossed his arms as though trying to protect himself, but what was he even protecting himself from? The hopelessness he knew Michael was probably feeling? “But um, if you wanna sleep or something before we… talk, that’s fine, I’ll just be downstairs or somethi-”

“Jeremy,” Michael interrupted, his gaze finally lifting from the floor and meeting Jeremy’s. Jeremy could now clearly see the despair in Michael’s eyes, and it broke his heart. “We can talk now, if you really want to. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep anyways.” Michael’s hands were in his lap and he was absentmindedly scratching at his left palm. Jeremy noticed this, and promptly seated himself down next to Michael on the edge of the bed, taking his right hand in his. Michael looked up in surprise at the action, but Jeremy seemed  
not to notice. It just felt nice to be able to comfort his best friend in any way possible at the moment.

After sitting there rubbing circles into the back of Michael’s hand for what seemed to be the longest time as both boys contemplated what to say to the other, Jeremy finally decided to address his best friend.


End file.
